


Waking

by BlairFagin



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Bullshit Science, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Pipes has another chance at life, Sad Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlairFagin/pseuds/BlairFagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s still alive,” said the nice gravelly voice. “Can you hear me there? You awake?”</p>
<p>Pipes willed his heavy body to move, but was only able to twitch his fingers slightly. He felt the presence of the frame above him move away. No, he didn’t want that. There was something so warm and welcoming about the EM field and those rough hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking

“Is he alive?”  
  
“That’s what I’m trying to find out if you just shut up, Blades.”  
  
A warm hand was pressed to the fuel lines in Pipes’ neck.   
  
“Fine, I’ll shut up,” replied the first voice, thick with irritation.   
  
A finger found Pipes’ main fuel line and was held down for a few seconds, moving slightly with every thud of the fuel pump.

 

“He’s still alive,” said the nice gravelly voice. “Can you hear me there? You awake?”  
  
Pipes willed his heavy body to move, but was only able to twitch his fingers slightly. He felt the presence of the frame above him move away. No, he didn’t want that. There was something so warm and welcoming about the EM field and those rough hands.  
  
“You see that? I think he’s awake. Go get the others now, Blades. I’ll take care of him.”  
  
“Okay!”  
  
Pipes felt the rush of air and heard the whirl of rotary blades. He tried moving again, succeeding in turned his head. With the movement he was able to feel the pebbles and sand move around him.  Where was he, a beach of some sort or a desert? He strained his audials and was able to pick up the sound of waves crashing. A beach then.  
  
“Hey, I need you to open your eyes for me. Can you do that?” asked that nice voice.  
  
It was a struggle, but Pipes managed to online his sensors and opened his lids. The world around him was a blinding bright light and his optics stung as they tried to recalibrate. It took a few seconds but the blinding white faded to a mess of colours, shortly followed by the details sharpening, until the red blur above him became a Cybertronian and the blue became the sky.  
  
“There we go! Welcome to the world of the living. Can you speak?”

 

The strange Cybertronain above him seemed to be around Pipes size, which was strange as by the small amount of kibble Pipes was able to tell that he was a fire engine, usually a large model. Not that Pipes minded, with that wide chest the mystery mech was very handsome.  
  
“Ughhhhhh,” groaned Pipes, his vocaliser struggling to reset.  
  
“Take your time, don’t rush yourself.   
  
“Where am I?” managed Pipes at last.  
  
“On a tiny rock in the middle of the ocean,” answered the handsome mech as he checked Pipes frame for damage. “The nearest inhabited island is Griffin Rock which is about half an hour from away. My team is stationed there and we decided to investigate a strange burst of energy our base’s scanners picked up. We expected something big, but we found just you. No ship, no equipment, no other signs of how you got here.”  
  
“I… I don’t know how I got here.”  
  
Pipes attempted to sit up and his handsome rescuer helped him with a strong hand behind his back.

 

“Careful there, don’t hurt yourself. What’s the last thing you remember?”  
  
Pipes strained his processor, which felt heavy and slow. “I was, uh, on my ship.”  
  
“What was the name of the ship, were you the only one aboard?”  
  
“It was the _Lost Light_ and no, I wasn’t the only one. There are three hundred Autobots aboard.”  
  
There was a sharp invent from the strange mech. “That’s a massive amount. I didn’t know there were crews so large anymore. Who was your captain?”  
  
“Rodimus, Ultra Magnus was the second, with Drift coming in third.”  
  
The mech moved to Pipes legs and forced the joints to flex and bend. There was a deep frown on his handsome face.  
  
“I know of Magnus and Drift, but I’ve never heard of Rodimus.”  
  
“Really? Rodimus, used to go by Hot Rod?” said Pipes, hoping to spark the mech’s memory.  
  
“Hot Rod!” the mech near shouted as his head shot up. “He’s alive? Last we ever heard of him he was captured by Megatron and was confirmed dead by Autobot intelligence. What is he doing calling himself Rodimus now?”  


“He thought it made him sound more like a Prime.”  
  
“I knew Optimus said the guy was destined to be the next Prime, but there’s no reason for the name change while the boss is still kicking.”  


“Doesn’t he go by Orion Pax now though?”  
  
The strange mech stopped and looked down at Pipes as if he was an idiot. “Since when? I spoke to him the other day and he still is very much Optimus Prime.”  
  
“Since when? Well, since the war ended.”  
  
The mech froze for a few seconds before leaping into action, pushing Pipes back down into the sand as gently as possible. “Don’t move. I think you’re suffering from a severe head injury.”  
  
“What!” shouted Pipes, struggling to stay as still as possible. “Do you see something?”  
  
“No, but it’s the only explanation for your crazy ramblings.”  
  
“Ramblings? What are you talking about?”  
  
“The war isn’t over, though from what I’ve heard it can’t last much longer now. Believe me, we would have known about it. We have a direct line to the Prime himself.”  
  
“A direct line to the Prime? How important are you? A general of some kind? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”  
  
Something about the mech fell slightly. “Uh, no. I’m just the leader of a four bot rescue team. Though the Prime does say I have potential and I haven’t let him down yet.”  
  
There it was. Pipes’ processor was starting to ache as it tried to comprehend everything the handsome strange had told him. “I don’t feel so good.”  
  
“Hey, stay with me? Don’t fall uncounsc-” said the mech before Pipes fell into stasis.  


….

 

Less than an hour later the strange Autobot had been moved to Prime’s base and hooked up to a variety of medical equipment that thrummed in time with the blue bot’s spark beat. Heatwave had made the decision to contact Optimus after weighing the options of what could go wrong and with a disorientated Autobot who had lived through millions of years of war, a lot could go wrong. Even though Heatwave was gruff and unpleasant at times, he would rather die than risk the Burns family.

 

“Right, tell me everything over again. This time clearly and slowly,” ordered Ratchet as he leant over the small frame.   
  
“There was a burst of energy on our scanners and we went to investigate. When we got there he was coming out of stasis and babbled on a bit, about a huge Autobot ship called the Lost Light, Hot Rod being alive, Optimus being Orion Pax and the war being over. Then he went out like a light again,” recounted Heatwave as he paced beside the medical berth.  
  
“Hm, none of that is true,” said Ratchet and then he paused. “Well, the Orion Pax thing did happen, but it was very brief and was a while ago. What kind of energy was it on the scanners?”  
  
“It was some form of quantum energy.” Heatwave cross over to the terminal and brought up the records and transferred them to a large screen by the berth.

 

“You’re right,” muttered Ratchet as he observed the readings. “And from what I can tell this is a very, very advanced form of quantum energy. No Cybertronian has the technology to reproduce these results. There once existed an experimental engine that was being developed in Unitrex that was similar, but Megatron’s forces bombed the city to the ground when they were just starting to outfit their first ship. _Unitrex-1_ was destroyed before it was able to take her maiden voyage and all the data that could be used to make another was lost. But I think we might be on the right track.”

 

Heatwave moved closer to the berth and looked down at the small bot on the berth, looking so frail that it was even starting to tug at Heatwave’s stubborn spark.

 

“You think this bot may have something to do with those engines? Like he was trying to replicate them?”  
  
Ratchet tore his eyes away from the screen. “Maybe, that is a possibility. But he would have had to have not only replicated them, but improved on them to an extent that would take millions of years of technological advancement. Which when you take into the nature of quantum engines, means something very dramatic may have happened to our friend here. Let me just run some tests and I’ll have a clearer idea. I’ll send a message for Optimus to meet us, he went off to make sure the others had indeed left with the children, no sneaking back in.”  
  
Heatwave stood by, still and silent, as Ratchet reportedly though the comm. line to Optimus. He watched the strange bot lay completely still on the berth, not even a twitch of the fingers or a sleeping sigh. The whole situation just sat wrong in the pit of his tank.

 

“Okay doc, what the heck do you think is going on here,” said Heatwave as soon as Ratchet hung up.   
  
“Are you deaf, didn’t you just hear me say I need to run tests?”  
  
“You need to have some theory to know what tests to run.”  
  
Ratchet shot Heatwave a sidelong glare. “You’re going to be a formidable leader one day. You’re right, I do have a theory. But it’s based on the very little known about quantum science, so most of it is just guesswork.”  
  
“Hit me.”  
  
Ratchet sighed and sat down, behind him the scanners working in overtime. “From what we understand, about the quantum engines that were being developed in Unitrex, there were numerous unforseen side effects when exposed to spark energy.”  
  
“Side effects?” began Heatwave before he gave the strange bot a worrying look. “Are we safe being around him.”  
  
“I’m fairly certain we are, unless we expose him to something similar to the quantum engines. It was a huge risk taking him through the ground bridge, it was a miracle nothing or no one blew up. You know what the function of the ground bridge is, don’t you Heatwave?”  
  
“I’m not stupid. It’s to move from one point to another in seconds rather than hours or even days.”  
  
“Exactly, you move from one point in space to another instantaneously. Well what little we know of Unitrex when they were experimenting objects would sometimes disappear at random, only to turn up somewhere else, maybe a week later. And sometimes when exposed to someone with a very strong spark, mainly the younger scientists, objects would appear before they disappeared. Now what does that tell you?”

 

The processor ache that had been quietly building in the back of Heatwave’s processor spiked. There was a reason he wasn’t a scientist and situations, like the one he was in, was the reason why.   
  
“They were moving through time as well as space. Are you telling me our friend may be a time traveller.”  
  
“Quite possibly. But then you go deeper into the quantum science theories and it gets even crazier. Stuff such as quantum duplicates, but that’s not what I’m getting to.”  
  
“Doc, don’t play around with my processor, it’s already hurting as it is.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll get right to it. There is a theory that if the engines were advanced enough and enough spark energy was used, then the engines powers would be taken to their logical conclusion. They’d be able to move through space and time far enough to reach some place beyond our universe, a parallel universe. Someplace that could be similar to our own, yet different.”  
  
Heatwave gave Ratchet a look of disbelief. “Wait, are you telling me that this guy could be from another universe?”  
  
There was a small smile tugging at Ratchet’s derma. “Why are you so shocked, Heatwave. Why would he not be?”  
  
Sick of the conversation Heatwave got up and began pacing the lab again. “Because it sounds crazy, like something from a bad sci-fi holovid.”  
  
“You haven’t seen that mech’s insides Heatwave. They are similar to ours, but so many things we use in our construction are missing and so many things that we don’t, are there. It’s like he followed a completely different line of technological advancement. One where things were done slightly different. And it would line up with the tale he was spinning.”  
  
“He was delusional.”  
  
“No, Heatwave, delusional is thinking that Megatron is a bunch of turbo foxes in a suit or something even crazier, like an Autobot. It is outlandish things that don’t make sense. He just gave us an account that had you believing it, until too many things added up differently. For all we know, what he said was how his universe worked. One where there are enough of our species left to pilot a ship of three hundred, one where the war is over, one where our future Prime is still alive and the line of succession isn’t left a mystery.”  
  
“So, how are you going to prove this theory right?” asked Heatwave, rubbing circles in his aching temples.  
  
“I’ve ran a test, to figure out how much quantum energy is in him. If I’m right, then he should be saturated in the stuff. The second thing I’ve done is use something I’ve borrowed from Decepticon technology. They’ve perfected the art of invading someone’s processor, so I developed something similar, but not as invasive. It’ll grab powerful memories, close to the surface of his mind and make a copy of them. If I’m right, then the memories will be of a completely different timeline.”  
  
“What memories are you pulling?”  
  
“As I said, it’ll be the strong ones. If we go any deeper into his processor we risk doing damage.”  
  
“And how are we going to view these memories? Up on the screen? It feels rather invasive.”  
  
“Unfortunately, no. The download is complicated, to say the least. There are other inputs besides visual and audial, so it’s hard to untangle all the different sensory feeds. Someone will have to experience the memories and we’ll tap into only their audio and visual.”  
  
“Has someone been chosen for that yet?”  
  
“No. Why? You volunteering?”  
  
“I think I am.”

  
….  


“What have you found, Ratchet?” asked the eternally tired voice of Optimus Prime.  
  
Ratchet moved from his seat beside his unconscious patient to the large display. He tapped at his data pad and the results appeared on the screen, a mess of graphs, numbers and diagrams that made sense only to him.  
  
“I ran some tests and our friend here seemed fine at first, but then as time went on his frame started to deteriorate. Minor breaks and tears simply appearing at random. Nothing that self-repairs can’t quickly take care of, but we’ll have to keep an eye on it nonetheless. As for the mystery of where our friend came from, that is a whole different, very confusing, story. I won’t bother you with the details of the science behind it, but I believe our friend may have been transported here from a parallel universe by quantum energy. Ridiculous sounding, isn’t it? But I’ve ran the tests and his whole body is saturated in quantum energy, every part of him down to the smallest atom, like he was assembled by it, piece by piece. We’ve also downloaded some of his memories and someone will have to go in, to check if they belong to this world or another.”  
  
Optimus nodded in his usual solemn way. “I assume that someone has already volunteered?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” said Heatwave as he stepped forward. “I feel responsible for him, so I respectfully request that you let me go in.”  
  
For a second Optimus stared at Heatwave expressionless, but then an ever so small smile tugged at his derma. “You constantly impress me, Heatwave. I don’t know why it surprises me so much, but I can’t seem to grasp that you are growing up. I trust you’ll do well with this and we’ll find out the mystery of our friend here.”  
  
“I won’t let you down, sir.”  


….  


The world around him materialised with a jolt. Walls rose from darkness and lines spider webbed their way under his feet until they formed a solid floor. Heatwave was starting to feel nauseous when shadowy figures appeared and grew solid to form Cybertronians. There were so many of them, standing there, unmoving as the world seemed to struggle to form, then they burst into life without warning. They laughed, yelled, ran and moved about without a care.

 

It took Heatwave a second to realise that he was in a bar. He had been born during the war, long after the old greats, like Maccadam’s, had been destroyed and he had been far too young to visit the dingy makeshift bars the older mechs had cobbled together. The bar he found himself in seemed anything but dank and dingy, the walls shined, the engex glowed and the mechs who wondered about seemed happy, at ease. Like there was no war.

 

“Hey, Pipes!” called out a small bot that was running towards Heatwave.   
  
“Oh hi, Tailgate.  Didn’t expect to see you here, I’d thought you would be in the med bay with Rewind. Isn’t he still recovering from that blast?” asked Heatwave in a voice that wasn’t his own.  
  
He must be in the strange bots body, experiencing the memories that way. No, his name was Pipes. That was what the little white bot named Tailgate had called him. Well, at least Heatwave had a name for the stranger, which fixed one problem.   
  
“Nope, Rewind’s been discharged from the med bay. Ratchet gave him a clean bill of health, thanks to Whirl and First Aid,” said Tailgate as he bounced up and down on his heels. “And of course, Cyclonus, for shielding him when the blast went off. He saved both me and Rewind.”  
  
There was something about the slight dreamy tone that Tailgate took on which made ~~Heatwave/~~ Pipes’ spark clench painfully. Anger welled up deep within him and the world dropped away from beneath his feet, literally.

 

The world dissolved and he was thrust into a complete darkness, which he tumbled through in a freefall. Then as soon as it happened a new world came into existence. He was in a long hallway, the walls a similar colour to the ones in the bar, so it stood to reason he was in the same base or on the same ship. Maybe the _Lost Light_ itself.   
  
“Hey, Pipes,” said the voice of Tailgate, this time all the energy and excitement was gone, replaced by a sorrowful tone.  
  
“Tailgate,” asked ~~Heatwave/~~ Pipes and he took a step closer, “is everything okay?”  
  
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just had a little disagreement with Cyclonus. You know, my roommate?”  
  
The small white bot seemed so defeated.   
  
“You don’t have to put up with him, Tailgate. You can move into my room.”  
  
Tailgate shook his head. “No, Pipes’ I’ll be fine. I’m just sad for him.”  
  
That rage that Heatwave had felt in the bar was back. “Him? He doesn’t matter, he’s a filthy Decepticon.”  
  
“He isn’t a Decepticon!” protested Tailgate, a hard edge creeping into his small voice. “Cyclonus has had such a tough life and he seems so broken, so guarded and untrusting. I pity him, because I know there is good in him, but he’s too stubborn to help himself.”  
  
“He doesn’t need help! He’s killed people, innocent people! Trust me, Tailgate, people like that don’t have a scrap of good in them and if he could he’d kill us all!”  
  
The darkness came again as the scene dissolved and Heatwave managed to take it in his stride, knowing what to expect next. He returned to the first scene in the bar.  
  
“So I was wrong, about him, Cyclonus?” he found himself saying to Tailgate.  
  
“You were, he isn’t as bad as you thought he was,” admitted Tailgate and then he placed a hand on ~~Heatwave/~~ Pipes’ shoulder. “But I will admit he isn’t as nice as I thought he was in the beginning either.”  
  
The weight lifted from Heatwave’s chest. “We were both a little wrong and a little right.”  
  
Tailgate laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess you just can’t really know what someone is going to be like. Can you?”

 

As the world fell away again Heatwave managed to return to himself enough that he realised why Tailgate was so familiar. In Heatwave’s life he had been a figure only ever spoken about, a solider partnered with Arcee who had met a gruesome end.   
  
The new memory was a place completely different. Everything looked old and worn, with a layer of rust on everything. As the scene grew solid Heatwave was hit with a wave of agony that seeped into every part of his frame. His vision grew blurred and tinged with brown rust. There was rust in his eyes! Why was there was rust in his eyes? Why was there rust everywhere?  
  
“It’s going to be okay Pipes, Pharma is dead and gone,” said a white mech coated in the same grime and rust that coated the walls, floor and everything. “Ratchet, got hold of the cure. He already gave me and him a shot and we’ll get to you in just a minute, we just have to see to the others who are worse off first. Can you hang on til then?”  
  
Heatwave shuddered. “I’ll be fine, Drift, I’ve had worse.”  
  
“Good, because life isn’t done with you yet.”  
  
“Ha, life better watch out for me.”  
  
Drift smiled, the movement making liquid and rust drip down from his eyes over his cheeks. “Good, because we’ve got to find you a handsome mech to sweep you off your feet.”  
  
Heatwave didn’t even flinch as he felt that familiar drop in his gut as the world fell away to be replaced by darkness. He was surprised when he found himself back in the bar? Did everything and everyone revolve around that bar?

 

"So, does Pipes of Helex have a type?" asked Drift as he sat across the table with his drink.  
  
Heatwave/Pipes thought for a second. "Triple Changers. Same height as me, ideally. Aquatic alt-mode, minimal kibble, big chest plate..." he rambled on, trying to recount everything that came to mind.   
  
A smirk appeared on Drift’s face. "I'm thinking more personality, character, temperament..."

 

Heatwave/Pipes smiled beneath his face mask. That may have been a little shallow of him. "Yeah, they're all good too,” he said, trying to brush it off while staying cool.   
  
The world went once again and Heatwave/Pipes was returned to the rust covered pit.   
  
“Yeah, you did promise me that, didn’t you. You said you’d hook me up with Tailgate.”  
  
Drift laughed until his vents coughed and heaved. “Oh yeah, I did,” spluttered out Drift as soon as he could talk. “I will admit that didn’t turn out the best, he seems to like them big, purple and stoic.”  
  
“What is he thinking?” asked Pipes.  
  
“He probably wasn’t. Like you were when you got on our little road trip, which I bet you’re regretting right now.”  
  
“No, not at all.”  
  
When the world reassembled itself Pipes was stood in a crowd, excitement thrumming in the air and before him was a stage. Rodimus stood tall and proud, flanked on either side by Drift and Ultra Magnus. He worked the crowd, voice raising with their moods. Pipes had not felt so hopeful in years, he wanted nothing more than for something to go right and as he looked at Rodimus, and beyond that the massive form of the _Lost Light_ , he felt the hope he had been clinging to rise. That hope which had been slowly dwindling throughout the war, which he had stubbornly held onto.

 

The war…

 

Memories of horrors flashed in front of him, all memories of the worst he had witnessed during the war. One led to another in a grisly montage and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Death, carnage, horror after horror, all paraded themselves in front of him, each leaving a scar.

 

Eventually the flashes stopped and Pipes was left with one solid scene. A large foot loomed above him, belonging to a face he had never seen in person. His spark leapt in fear just before the foot came down….

 

He needed to warn them all!   
  
Needed to stop Overlord from killing them all.  
  
Drift, Tailgate, Swerve, Rodimus, Rewind, Chromedome and even Cyclonus.   
  
Needed to…

 

SPARK FADING! Life slipping…

 

He smashed the glass and fell.

 

For a fraction of a second he heard an alarm and then… and then… and then…

 

There wasn’t a then. There was nothing.

 

….

 

  
Heatwave screamed as he came back to the real world. Optimus was beside him in an instant, grabbing Heatwave by the shoulders.  
  
“Calm down, Heatwave. Everything is fine now.”  
  
“I died. I felt my life slipping away as my body crumbled.”  
  
Ratchet joined Optimus, shining a light in Heatwave’s optic. “You didn’t die, Heatwave. You merely experienced death through poor Pipes here.”  
  
“I felt it though. I felt my spark go out.”  
  
The light disappeared and Ratchet took Heatwave’s face in his hands. “You didn’t die, Heatwave.”  
  
“He was in so much pain. Everything was going to be better for him, but then he showed up! Overlord was there. Why was Overlord there? What happened to the others?”  
  
“I don’t know, Heatwave. We can only know what Pipes knew and he wasn’t around to see what happened next,” said Ratchet.   
  
Optimus was hovering off to the side. “There’s nothing we can do for them, Heatwave. All we can do is focus on is making sure Pipes is okay.”  
  
“But he died. I felt him die. You saw him die. How is he here and alive?” asked Heatwave, trying to control the shake in his hand.   
  
“I may have an answer,” said Ratchet and then he pinched the gap between his optics. “But this is deep, deep theoretical science here.”  
  
“Shoot, doc. We don’t have any other answers here,” said Heatwave, the tremble finally disappearing from his voice, but not his frame.

 

“Well, this is shaky stuff, combining science from multiple different fields, but I’ll do my best to try and explain it. Basically we, the Cybertronian race, are made from three main parts. The processor, the spark and the t-cog. The t-cog is what makes us unique, sets us apart from all other mechanical species, but we can live without it or replace it. Our spark and our processor is a different story, humans have an approximate version called the mind and soul, except they have no physical evidence of their souls like we do our sparks. We cannot exist as a person without both our processors and sparks. A processor without a spark is nothing more than a computer and a spark without a processor lacks sentience. Now both these two keep going because of one thing, energy.”  
  
Optimus was gravely listening to the speech, his brow furrowed in silent concentration. It was a show of discipline that Heatwave was far from obtaining.  
  
“And?” Heatwave asked in frustration.  
  
Ratchet shot him a glare but continued on. “Well remember how I said quantum engines react strongly to spark energy. When an otherwise healthy spark is fatally damaged all that energy is released at once, the output is huge. When Pipes died, his energy could have reacted to the quantum engines and that was what caused him to travel between universes. It transported all his energy, including the electrical impulses of his processor. But when the energy arrived it would need a body, a way to house it and with the blueprints in his processor it created a new one, a quantum duplicate of sorts, which is a whole different mess I have no time to discuss the science of.”  
  
Heatwave stared directly at Ratchet, as if the secret for understanding what the medic had said was hidden somewhere on his face. “So, this Pipes… Is a clone?”  
  
“Of a kind, his body is a duplicate of the old one, but his spark and mind are the original one. Does this make sense? Am I getting this through to you? Both of you seem rather blank. You’re doing that thing when you don’t understand Optimus, you go silent and just nod.”  
  
Optimus coughed loudly and stood straighter. “I will not pretend I understand the science behind it, but I have an idea of what you think Pipes is and how he got here. Now, how can we use this information to help Pipes wake up?”  
  
Ratchet sighed deeply and once more returned to the console. A blueprint of Pipes body was brought up on display and next to it was a mangled mess that it took Heatwave a second to decipher as the mess Overlord had made of Pipes.

 

“See these two blueprints? This scan was taken of Pipes when he arrived and this one is what I was able to get of the feedback from the memory. They are nothing alike. Now look at this.”  
  
A blueprint of Pipes changed, showing the small fractures and injuries that had been appearing as time went on.  
  
“They match what happened to him,” said Heatwave as realisation dawned. “What Overlord did to him is happening to him all over again, just slowly.”  
  
“Exactly,” said Ratchet.

 

Heatwave looked at where Pipes was lying on the medical slab, completely motionless. He thought of all the memories he’d seen, of a mech that never gave up, even when death was imminent. To see him so still just seemed strange.  “But why is this happening?”  
   
“Because the blueprint for his frame came from his processor and initially he must have blocked out the trauma. Now, he is remembering what happened to him and the quantum energy is trying to correct the mistake it made building him, it’s trying to remake him to how he’s supposed to be.”  
  
“Is he going to die?” asked Optimus.  
  
Ratchet shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. His self-healing may be able to keep up with the rate of decay, but that’s highly unlikely. It’s not made to keep going forever. But we could save him by getting rid of the new blueprint, the one that says he’s supposed to be broken. By going into his mind and deleting the memory, so he can’t access it anymore. I have no idea if it’ll work, but it’s worth a shot.”  
  
“I’ll do it,” said Heatwave, stepping forward.  
  
“No one is asking you to,” replied Ratchet. “It’s incredibly dangerous and there’s a chance you could lose yourself forever. You lost track of yourself just be experiencing Pipes’ memories, how do you think you’ll fair going into his mind?”   
  
“Bumblebee did it with Megatron and he came out of that fine.”  
  
“That’s because he skimmed the top of Megatron’s mind and conversed with his conscious self. You’ll be going deep into his subconscious and rummaging through his memories until you find the right fragging one and then you’ll have to find a way to lock it down. Who knows what that’ll be like. What makes you think you can do this?” Ratchet was nearly shouting at Heatwave and his fists were curled tightly by his side.

 

With a sigh Heatwave turned to look up at Optimus, staring the larger mech right in the eye. “Please, Optimus. You said you thought I would make a good leader and a part of being a good leader is helping everyone they can and not letting those they’re responsible for die when there’s something they can do about it. I’m responsible for Pipes, I found him, I’ve experienced his memories and know him best. I have to do this.”  
  
Optimus looked so tired, he always did, but in that moment the Prime looked as if the weight of the world was weighing down upon him. Heatwave wondered if one day he would be like Optimus, so worn and sad, or was it just something unique to a Prime?

 

“I cannot stop you, Heatwave. If you choose to help Pipes, then I have no objections.”    
  
How much had it hurt to say that? To step back and let Heatwave go to an uncertain fate? How many others had Optimus let do the same and how many had come back? There were so many questions that Heatwave wanted to ask Optimus, but none of them seemed appropriate, so he simply nodded in thanks.

 

There was no going back.

 

….  


Pipes mind was nothing like his memories. They had been clear cut, if a little faded around the edges. His mind meanwhile was a living mass that engulfed Heatwave completely the second he stepped in. Voices whispered around him and images flashed for a moment before disappeared just as fast, like grains of sand in the ocean. How the frag was he supposed to find anything in such a formless mass?

 

As if it somehow sensed what Heatwave wanted the moving darkness parted to form a path. He followed and found it long and winding, passing through multiple memories that were embedded in the walls. The maze made no sense, he could take five right turns and not end up in the same place. So instead he wondered deeper and deeper into the memories, most of which were completely unfamiliar to Heatwave. But every now and then, like a marker on a hiking trail, there was something he recognised, the launch of the Lost Light, Delphi, Swerve’s Bar and the conversation with Drift. As he went the memories seemed to be becoming more recent, so at least he was heading in the right direction. All he needed was Pipes’ final memory.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
Heatwave had found his target. As the walls parted he was led into a large chamber, which looked suspiciously like the insides of a massive ship’s engine. In the centre was a large sphere, suspended by small dark strands. Inside was a swirling chaotic mass that Heatwave unfortunately knew all too well, a flash of fat derma, red optics and a fading world, it was Pipes’ dying memory.   
  
“Now to just get rid of you,” he muttered as he approached the memory.   
  
He pulled and tugged at the fragile looking strands but found they were as strong as steel. He tried kicking and punching the memory itself, but nothing would make it budge.   
  
“You’re a stubborn fragger.”  
  
“It’s no use,” said a voice that drifted around the room. “You can’t get rid of it. It can’t be ignored, it can’t be contained…”  A figure stepped out from behind the memory. “It will never go away.”  
  
“Pipes?”  
  
Pipes looked at Heatwave like it was the first time he’d ever seen him. “Do I know you?”  
  
The threads stopped Heatwave from going to Pipes, but he stepped closer, pressing himself against their unyielding form. He realised that the threads completely surrounded Pipes, trapping him from all sides.  
  
“It’s me, Heatwave. The bot you met on the beach when you first woke up, after,” he gestured to the memory, “this!”  
  
“Oh, I thought your face was familiar. I don’t know how I could know you though. I died. Well, I should be dead.”  
  
“No! You don’t have to die. Your mind and spark was transported to my universe when you had your accident. But your body is breaking apart because of this memory. We need to contain it now! Before you die.”  
  
Pipes reared back, stepping away from Heatwave and further into his prison. “I didn’t have an accident!”  
  
Realising his mistake Heatwave raised his hands in a calming gesture. “You’re right. You were attacked and killed by a monster, it was brutal. I understand, I felt it too. I lived your memory.”  
  
Pipes’ whole body shook and he clutched his hands tight to his chest. He looked so lost it made Heatwave’s spark physically ache.  
  
“I… I don’t think we can get rid of this memory. Oh Primus, I’m going to die all over again because of him.  It’s like some fragging last effort of the world to torment me. It brought me back and for what? To suffer some more? Wasn’t my whole life enough suffering?”  
  
“It was! It was more suffering than anyone should endure, but it doesn’t have to be that way. I can rescue you, it’s my fragging job!”  
  
Pipes looked Heatwave in the optics and it was at that moment that Heatwave noticed that Pipes was starting to crumble at the edges.   
  
“How? This memory dominates everything! It defines my entire existence. It was how I died and it’s how everyone from my universe will remember me forever. As the bot that got squished by Overlord.”  
  
“No, you’re going to forever be remembered as the guy who dragged his dying frame across the floor to warn his friends in his last moments. I don’t know about you, but I consider that really fragging heroic.”  
  
Pipes doubled over, clutching his helm. “Oh, Primus! What happened to the others? Did they survive? What if Overlord killed them as well? Do you have any way of knowing?”

 

For a moment Heatwave considered lying. It would certainly put Pipes more at ease. But he found he couldn’t even form the words in his processor.

 

“We don’t know Pipes, there is no way we can. But you have to trust them. You gave them the best chance they could have and you have to trust that they used it, that they succeeded and won. They seem like a tough bunch. Most of them in my world died thousands of years ago.”   
  
Pipes knelt on the floor in defeat. “Even if I do trust them, even though I trust you, there’s no way I can get rid of this memory. It’s too embedded in all my other memories, it overshadows everything I’ve ever done.”  
  
“Then we get rid of everything connected to it!”  
  
“That’s all my memories, Heatwave. That’s everything I am.”  
  
Heatwave bit his derma and knelt down to Pipes’ level and managed to wedge his arm through a gap in the threads. He placed his hand right on the centre of Pipes’ chest.  
  
“It’s not. You have your spark. The humans believe that even though that they can’t see their own spark, a soul, it’s who they really are. Memories are just that, they’re memories of things that happened to you. Even though they shape your actions, they aren’t who you truly are, because it’s in your spark that truly makes you who you are.”

 

Pipes brushed at his visor before he unhooked both it and his faceplate, showing his face and teary optics. “I like the thought of that. But I’m still scared, what if your wrong?”  
  
“Maybe I am, but what other option do you have? Do you want to sit here and wait for Overlord to finish killing you again, or do you want to take a gamble on something crazy?”  
  
Pipes leant forward until his head rested against the threads inches from Heatwave’s own.

 

“I’m so tired Heatwave. And even though I’m scared, I’m going to trust you. I can see your memories as well and if there is someone I’d trust, I know it would be you.”  
  
“Then close your optics and leave all this slag behind. I promise I’ll take care of you.”  
  
“You better… Well, I guess there’s no going back.”  
  
The engine room made of memories shook and a loud rumble sounded in the distance. Then there was quiet for a few moments before the rumbling started again, louder and bit by bit the walls of the room began to crumble. Huge chunks fell away, hitting the floor and then kept going, punching huge holes in the structure. One by one the threads began to snap as the huge sphere swayed. Taking his chance Heatwave pulled Pipes to him and led him away from the memory.  
  
“It’s all going to be okay now, I promise.”  
  
“It better be, life owes me after all it put me through last time round.”  
  
“Oh, it will. Do you know how I know?”  
  
Pipes lifted his helm to look at Heatwave and without the mask, without the visor, without the tears, he had a pretty face. “And how do you know that?”   
  
“Because I have a very wide chest and I’m about your height.”  
  
Pipes buried his head against said chest. “Oh no, you saw that memory.”  


“I also have minimal kibble as you can see, I bet you can’t even tell what my other alt mode it?”  
  
“You better fragging say it’s aquatic, otherwise you’re a big tease.”  
  
“It is,” said Heatwave and then he laughed. “But I do have to warn you other than being a fire truck and a boat, I also turn into a dinosaur. I hope that won’t be a problem.”  
  
Pipes looked up again, optics once more filled with tears. “I think I could get used that,” he replied, voice breaking. “Or at least I hope I will. Who knows about this new Pipes.”  
  
With a loud crack the sphere ripped free and tumbled through the floor and out of sight, gone forever. Heatwave wouldn’t miss it and only wished he could forget it as well.

 

“Well, you have no choice about it, you’re stuck with me now. I promise I’m going to take care of you and look out for you and I fragging well mean it.”  
  
Pipes roughly wiped the tears from both their faces with the heel of his hand and Heatwave tried to ignore that he could see straight through Pipes.   
  
“You know I’m not as shallow as that memory made me seem. Personality, character, temperament… I care about all of that.”  
  
Heatwave forced a smile. “Oh, really? So tell me, what type does Pipes of Helex have?”  
  
“I like determined mechs, with a heroic streak a mile wide and a passionate personality. It also helps if they know when to tell me to stop worrying or freaking out or when I’m overreacting.”  
  
“Well, I can’t say you’re overreacting, these are extreme circumstances. I can tell you to stop worrying though, everything’s going to be okay now. I’m going to make sure of it.”  
  
Pipes said nothing, just simply wrapped his arms tighter around Heatwave and cried into his shoulder as the room fell apart.

 

Bit by bit the memories and experiences of a mech millions of years old disappeared. As it did Pipes grew fainter and fainter in Heatwaves arms. Soon only a single memory remained, of a beach and a red Autobot. When it crumbled Pipes went with it.

 

….  


“I would like to introduce you all to your new teammate, his name is Pipes.” Optimus gestured to the blue Autobot stood off to the side wringing his hands. “Would you like to come forward and introduce yourself to the Rescue Bots and their human companions?”  
  
Pipes nodded nervously and stepped forwards. “Uh, hi. My name is Pipes and I don’t really know what I can say about myself. Ratchet said I have a bad case of amnesia, but I promise I’ll try my best to be a good member of this team.”  
  
Heatwave tried to fight down a smile, it would be a bad idea to show weakness in front of Cade. He took a step forward and stood eye to eye with Pipes.

 

“Welcome to the team, Pipes. I’m Heatwave, your new leader,” he said and held out his hand for Pipes to shake.  
  
Pipes grabbed it, a bit too harsh, and shook it vigorously. “Wow, nice to meet you. You have a really wide chest and you’re pretty short for a fire truck.”  
  
Heatwave’s spark thrummed inside his chest and he found he couldn’t say anything at all.  
  
“Wow, someone’s not going to get along with Heatwave,” said Blades to Chase, who was stood beside him, and then turned to Pipes. “Heatwave has a short temper, be careful of that.”  
  
Pipes’ bare optics went wide and he let go of Heatwave’s hand. “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant it in a good way. I, uh, like people my own height. I don’t like to have to be constantly looking up.”  


“Don’t worry, I understood you,” replied Heatwave, no doubt surprising the others who were waiting for him to blow a fuse. “Don’t listen to Blades anyway. I’m not short tempered, I’m just… passionate.”  
  
Pipes smile was one of the most gorgeous things Heatwave had ever seen. “Oh, I didn’t offend you? I’m so glad.”  
  
Heatwave felt something in his spark, something suspiciously like hope. “Enough about me, or what I’m like. Tell me more about you. What is Pipes of Griffin Rock like?”   


**Author's Note:**

> This took way to long to do. I had a beta but they went AWOL about a month ago so I had to edit this monster myself. This pairing just has so much cute and happiness potential and I'd like to thank the people of tumblr for coming up with this crazy crack pairing.


End file.
